Carry That Weight
by GaladrielGirl
Summary: After the incident in the Chamber of Secrets, everyone thought life was back to normal. Ginny Weasley didn't share this thought. Follow her story as she tries to break away from the stereotypes her name brings and creates a new kind of Weasley.
1. Carry That Weight

**AN: I'd like to thank my betas, Wiccan98 and the fish is dead for helping me!**

**And of course, the characters and the HP world belong to the fabulous J.K. Rowling...**

Carry That Weight

_Opening her eyes, Ginny Weasley frantically swept over the room, trying to gauge her location. Upon realizing her current position between the dank chamber floor and Harry's fading embrace, she gathered herself just enough to try to help. Her attempt to help fell flat at the timely arrival of the phoenix, Fawkes._

It was then, Ginny realized, that Dumbledore's avian companion just happened to resemble a rooster…

_Rooster._

_Blood, feathers._

_Mrs. Norris, Colin, Justin, Nearly Headless Nick, Penny._

_Hermione._

Each lost memory Tom had suppressed suddenly sprang back into it's rightful place, creating slight head pain, but enough to cause Ginny to flinch.

_Luckily_, she thought, _Harry is still just a daft boy who notices nothing directly in front of him_. This had caused the almost takeover of one of the worst dictators of the age, but Ginny ignored that fact for the moment.

-*-

Hours later, I was sitting in one of the plush chairs in Dumbledore's office, vaguely listening to Harry and Ron's explanation of the whole bit in the chamber. Instead of looking at the two boys while they recounted their tales, I gazed out upon the castle grounds. The shimmering lake and warm grass succeeded in distracting me fully from the boy's droning on, so when Dumbledore asked me a question, it took a moment to realize that we were alone in the room; no Ron, Harry, or concerned parents.

"Miss Weasley, would you care to tell me your perspective of the whole situation? It is not required, but it would put some questions to rest," Dumbledore just looked at me pensively, his ice blue eyes seeming to look through my own, down in to my very soul.

I told him.

I began with the harrowing trip to Diagon Alley, including the sense of foreboding I got from Mr. Malfoy. My story rehashed the killing of the roosters, the attacks on my peers, and finally the trip down to the chamber, as well as my lack of understanding of the situation.

"…and professor, the entire trip to the restroom, and down the passage, and to the centre of the chamber, I felt oddly calm. My mind still was at full capability, and a few times, I questioned myself and almost turned back. The fact that I kept going just puzzled me, professor. Why did I keep going?"

He just replied that I would have to wait for an answer, as it would be a bit before he could prove one of his theories.

-*-

The train ride home was really nothing more than an annoyance; with the twins and Ron constantly supervising me, as well as Percy's habitual check-ins, I grew tired quickly. For half of my first train ride home, I slept with my head resting against the window's cold panes. The second half was composed of much recollection on my part, and a bit of mindless pondering…

_The first night in the dormitory: Sylvia Warbeck and her posse take charge of the room right away. Maybe I should have listened to the Sorting Hat, and been in a different house; it looks to be a hellish seven years._

_Am talking in the library to some boy from Slytherin, Ron's age I reckon, but he seems quite nice. Blaise, I think. He mentioned his interest in Quidditch, and we compared teams. Thank goddess I found a fellow Puddlemere fan; bloody Sylvia and her bloody posse [or, as I've taken to calling them, the hags of the tower] absolutely bash anyone who disagrees with their fanaticism over the Tornado's keeper. And now she's dragging me away from Blaise, noting that I've got her to thank for my well being. Bloody arse-faced hag._

_Girl named Luna chatted with me in Potions. I never thought that anyone else would adore that class, but I was wrong. After nearly all of a semester, I set myself to exile at table 1 (furthest to the left, next to the storage closet at the front), subjecting myself to a life without Luna's wit unknowingly. That's ok because according to Luna, we will be like long lost sisters or summat. Cool._

_Christmas is dull, boring, lonely. Ron, Hermione, and Harry are down on the couches talking. Gred and Forge are setting up traps in the Prefect's bathroom. Percy is snogging Penny. I am trying to remember the last three hours._

_Spring is honestly my favourite time of the year, if only because it rains constantly. It provides all of the peace I have been without this year._

_Why is it so cold down here? I can never remember the common room without a fire running…wait, this isn't…_

Now I actually have to face my family.

Damn.


	2. Heart Songs

**Special thanks to my beta, Wiccan98, for helping me loads with this chapter. As always, the basics of the Harry Potter world belong to J.K. Rowling...**

Heart Songs

Dry, hot, hellish; Egypt summed up in three words, courtesy of me. Who does mum think she's fooling anyways? Of course we would coincidentally visit Egypt, where my favourite brother is stationed, right after my staggering ordeal.

So, we arrive by international port key, and the first thing I see is an uber-freckled Bill, standing in front of an old, orange, expanded Chevy. Not kidding- the car had rust stains older than me! The interior was quite nice though- cream with orange pinstripes, like a canvas material of sorts. Ron just about had a conniption when he first set eyes on it; Bill was pretty good at showing devotion to the Cannons, an admired trait.

The ride to the Gringotts compound was long and tiresome. For about three hours, Bill, Mum, and Dad tried to pull off convincing small talk, at which they failed. Percy sat on the far right, posture top notch, trying to study his NEWT Arithmacy text, despite the turbulent ride. Fred and George huddled to his left, concocting their next trick on Percy. Ron, to the left of George, was looking through a Cannons text, gifted to him by Harry the previous year. I resided on the far left.

Yes, resided.

After the chamber, I seemed to turn into a living shell of myself. Nothing really fazed me anymore, except my need to hide the emptiness from mum; she would try to 'help' me. No one can help me now- I'm damaged, and I don't reckon this hole can be repaired.

Not that I'd want it repaired; filling that hole would just return me to the weak, useless _little girl_ I had once been.

For three hours, I stared.

-*-

"…And there will be absolutely no exploring after dark! If you want to visit one of the tombs, you MUST have a Gringotts employee, like your brother, escort you. Stay out of their noses when they are working; that means you two! Just because we are in a different country doesn't mea-".

"Mum, I reckon the little hellions know what sort of conduct is appropriate-you've drilled it into their heads for half of an hour. Anyways, some of my colleagues wanted to play a bit of Weasley Quidditch, and I said yes, so lets go?"

At the mention of Quidditch, all of my brothers, except big-head boy, rushed to their rooms to grab their pads and brooms. I tried the same, and got told off. Damn mum.

Because I am female, she decided that it would be improper and unladylike if I were to play a small pickup game. I then asked if I could float underneath them, maybe five feet off the ground; mum said it would give the wrong 'impression' to our gracious hosts, so I was dragged into potato peeling for our traditional British dinner.

This day cannot get any better *sarcasm*.

-*-

After dinner, everyone seemed to split into their own areas; Percy in the corner with dad and a colleague of Bill's, talking about the Ministry; mum fixing a pudding for everyone; the twins playing chess against Ron, harboring a large audience from their amusing commentary; Bill in a chair listening to music…

Music?

Silently, I crossed the room to Bill, wondering about the portable radio all the while. I tapped him on the shoulder, and he noticed my confused look.

"Oh, this old thing? Back in seventh year, I charmed Flitwick into fixing up this radio so that it could work in areas of a high magical concentration. Then, I just found a couple of cool muggle stations, and set them as favourites. Do you want to listen? DJ (the term for the person who puts the music on) Radisha announced that Pearl Jam will be on next, with Nirvana in the next half-hour."

For the next twenty minutes, Bill and I discussed the grunge movement happening over in America, as well as muggle musical trends in the UK. He even said that if I stuck to him for the trip, he might give me something awesome to take back home. A new song came on right when mum called us into the kitchen for pudding.

At the table, despite the avid conversation about Quidditch taking place, the last few lines of the song Bill and I were listening to played through my head…

_Hey, Wait; I've got a new complaint_

_Forever in debt to your priceless advice…_

_Hey, Wait; I've got a new complaint_

_Forever in debt to your priceless advice…_

Then Ron's voice broke through to my mind. Why would mindless talk of Quidditch catch my attention, you would ask? Lucky you; I wish it was Quidditch they were talking about.

"Mum, just curious, but why did we visit Bill? You just told us we were coming here, no explanation. We haven't seen Charlie for longer, and he has dragons!"

Damn Ron.

Everyone turns to me, unknowingly in unison. They all seem to have pity in their eyes, well, all except Bill. I was always the little fighter by his side, wanting to prove I could be as good as the boys. The time that passed seemed to have not changed that fact; he was ushering me to stand up for myself. There was something else. Dare I say it- he wanted me to stick it to Ron.

Stick it indeed!

I wanted Ron to never tiptoe around me ever again, with ridiculous thoughts of my weakness. Before he left for Hogwarts, he was beginning to think that I could hold my own. I need him to start thinking that again, for my own sake.

"Ron, brother, we came to see Bill instead of Charlie because mum and dad think that Bill could revert me back to the helpless little girl I was, before Voldemort decided he could attack my defenseless mind. Although, the dragons would have been an awesome sight, the history here is wonderful. Bill, I must ask where the two-headed mummy is located?"

That shut him up.

Mum, noting Ron's panicked expression, went to intervene in the non-conflict that was brewing between the two of us. She announced to the table that I was feeling quite peaky, and was probably just exhausted from the trip.

Bollocks.

As I walked out to the lodging tent, I thought of the ignorance everyone (except dear Bill) was exerting. By pretending the happy little family had no problems, I was outlawed just a bit more.

Thanks mum, for making me feel disowned; 'twas my lifelong dream!

Not.

-*-

The rest of our stay in Egypt went along the same lines; everyone but Bill treating me like they used to, pretending that my insides didn't resemble tar.

Bill actually really helped with the healing process. Every night, when the family separated, we sat in the corner (him in his brown leather study chair, me against the wall on the matching ottoman), and listened to our music.

I learned practically everything there was to know about music, past and present, UK or American. I was definitely ecstatic when Bill gave me the radio on our last night.

As he gifted it, I noticed the subtle changes he made; the Ford Anglia blue exterior was polished, new knobs put on the volume and station controls, and the wood paneling was unchipped (he definitely used his master charm skills). He just said that the best sibling should have the best stuff.

I vowed then to tell Bill of the chamber.

But, as I thought about it, I didn't think I could just insert it into our conversation. _Oh, hey Bill, yeah, when I was possessed by a murderer last June, there was a dirty great snake that Harry killed, and the chamber entrance was in the disserviced girl's loo on the second floor- definitely no place for a party._

That would probably make him have a fit like Ron.

*shiver*

Yeah, I'll wait until school starts to tell him.

-*-

Bloody weather.

At least in Egypt, it was expected when the sun melted shoes, but England?

Needless to say, the two days we spend here will kind of suck. Actually, mum and dad thought we could stay in Diagon Alley for the duration of the summer, so we could get our school supplies.

Ok, then mum, riddle me this: why do we just happen to meet up with the savior of the bloody world five minutes into shopping?

Not that I minded-I was busy looking through potions texts at Flourish and Blotts while everyone else mooned over the golden boy. We went to Florean's after, where we met Hermione.

I really never had a problem with Hermione last year, but the meeting was kind of awkward, what, with me having set a basilisk on her.

After some meaningless small talk, I announced that I was going to order, and hurried to the counter across the Shoppe. As I was ordering red liquorice jimmies onto my black currant sorbet, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I saw probably the most unexpected sight; Blaise Zabini, descendant of pureblood snobs, wearing muggle clothes. I mean, they looked marvy on him, but it was surprising.

"Um, Ginevra, right? You dropped your coin purse." He looked straight in my eyes, unlike so many these past months. Like he didn't know I was possessed by a murderer.

"Really, just Ginny, Ginevra is really just ancient. And thank you, I was concentrating on moving away from them," gesturing at the trio, then proceeding to run my hand through my hair, "instead of keeping my coin purse in my bag."

"I think Ginevra suits you though; it seems formal, but has a bit of fire behind it," at this, he gestured at the hand I had previously run through my hair, the knuckles of which were recovering from a disagreement with Ron. "And why wouldn't you want to be at the same table? I thought you were friends?"

The look on his face was confusing; like annoyance and kindness.

"I was stuck with Ginevra because of my mum's aunt. She was a strong woman who had to deal with the death of my uncles, so I guess it was kind of a tribute to the sacrifices my family has made? Oh, and the trio, eh. They try to pretend that I wasn't at the head of last year's scandal; assure themselves that I'm normal. Bloody annoyances."

"Hey, at least its a decent reason. I was named Blaise for my dad, the first one. Mirabella gave me his name almost as a security for his newly written will. She just as well told me so last new years, when she was drunk to the bone on French champagne. In the matter of your friends, yes, that's what they are," he noticed my slight grimace, "When coming out of a trauma, everyone has their own coping methods. For them, as well as most of the world, ignorance is bliss."

He is really straightforward.

"Well, maybe we should take the advice of the twins, and just create our own identities? Sometimes," at this, I reached for my sorbet, "It is not us, but the world that is in the wrong."

With a faint smile, I turned to head towards the door, but Blaise grasped my injured hand.

"Ginny," he conceded to my regular nickname, lightly touching the torn skin of my knuckles, "Just...whatever problems you have with the world, don't take them out on your brother; he isn't that perceptive. He won't realize the pain you feel by receiving hits."

Oh, he was good. Really good.

Just as I was about to reply, Ron calls for me, traces of the week-old bruise left on his jaw. I pick up my takeaway container of the sorbet, and turn to Blaise.

"Oh, and Blaise," he looks up from the counter, where his sorbet has just appeared, "Next time you want to tell me about not hurting family, you should try your own advice; self-destruction counts."

With that, I nodded and walked off. Before I left the Shoppe, I took one last glance at Blaise; he was staring into the depths of his black currant sorbet, idly rubbing at his right wrist.

This was going to be an interesting year.


	3. Sooner Or Later

**First off, MANY thanks to my beta, Wiccan98 for helping me make my rambling thoughts somewhat comprehensible...the characters belong to the lovely J.K., and the song lyrics featured in this chapter are "Fight Like a Brave," by the Red Hot Chili Peppers.**

Sooner or Later

Potter, thank goddess for him.

Well, not Potter physically, only the ministry ordered cars that his name brings. Because the disaster twins (not Gred and Forge) decided to crash our fabulous Ford Anglia into the tree of Doom, we find ourselves with two ways to get to the station: by the ministry cars or floo powder.

Joy.

After the boring car ride to King's Cross, mum and dad unpacked the car, and started to say their separate good-byes. They took me to the side first, telling me that I should check in with them often, and stick with my brothers. After telling my brothers their babysitting duties, we were rushed onto the train before it started moving.

Immediately, my four siblings set off to locate their friends, leaving me standing with my trunk, next to the exit door. Before much else could happen, who would appear, but Luna, leaning out of a compartment three doors down (towards the engine). She helped me lift my trunk into the overhead, all the while, telling me of the Blibbering humdinger.

I noticed at this time that there were two other people in the compartment; Terry Boot and Ernie Macmillan. They greeted me slightly stiffly, and mentioned that we were still waiting upon Susan Bones.

Susan arrived, and I learned of the reason for the seating arrangements: Luna. She was related to Ernie (they're cousins), great friends with Terry (who lived on the other side of the backyard pond), and had known Susan since birth practically (their mums were besties).

-*-

Until the trolley arrived, Luna was explaining an article in the Quibbler (her dad's magazine) to me and Susan, while the boys discussed gobstones. After ordering two packets Bertie Bots, one Pumpkin Pasty, and four Droobles, the conversation lulled.

The silence transformed into an unbearable buzzing in my ear, one that reminded me of my time possessed, so I pulled out my radio. Everyone looked at me with questions in their glances, ones that could only be answered by turning it on.

The silence was broken by a loud drum beat and a strong baseline. Lyrics started pumping throughout the compartment, bringing everyone's eyes to me.

_Fight like a brave, don't be a slave,_

_ No one can tell you 'you've got to be afraid.'_

_ If you're sick an' sick an' tired of being sick an' tired,_

_ You're sick of all the…_

I hit the mute button.

Once the room was silent, everyone started throwing questions at me, and I tried to answer to the best of my abilities.

"What was that?"

"Music."

"Was that muggle?"

"Yes."

"Are they a part of the Drugonaut Conspiracy?"

"I have no idea, Luna."

"Can you put it back on?"

"Sur-what? Susan, you want to listen to _that_ music? I could change the station to something else; I was listening to that before we left to try to rid bloody Ron's nagging from my cranium."

She nodded eagerly as I pushed the mute button once more, just as the DJ announced a song by INXS. We listened eagerly as Michael Hutchence promised his devotion to some girl. By the saxophone in the bridge of the song, everyone in the small room was captivated by the music emanating from the small box on the foldaway table. So much so, that the oncoming chill was practically unnoticeable.

Practically.

I saw the thing before anyone else, and I warned them as soon as I could. The creature looked like a cross between a Ghost and an Inferi, with it's bony hand reaching for the compartment door. The black cloak draped upon it was tattered and had a luminescent quality.

The deadened hand opened the door, immersing everyone in ice. Luna and Susan had closed their eyes and were crying silently, while Ernie and Terry had turned white. I was much worse.

Sitting closest to the door did not help in this situation, for the thing headed straight towards me, inhaling with a raspy breath. As it reached for my throat, all I could recall were snippets of Tom's voice, ordering me and consoling me, reminding me of my own personal hell. Just when it grabbed my head (and it's hood fell away), I felt a painful glow surround me before I passed out.

-*-

_Why is there chocolate in front of me?_

Opening my eyes, I noticed Susan offering me said chocolate while Luna, Ernie, Terry, and some older man watched from behind. They all seemed scared and concerned…too much emotion! Need to stop the emotion.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" I asked to the random man in the back corner. He was dressed in worn clothes, similar to Charlie.

"Remus Lupin, Defense against the Dark Arts Professor at your service. Now, Miss Weasley, what exactly do you remember of the Dementor attack?"

That explains it- dad would come home from work occasionally with news about the guards of the prison, Azkaban. Dementors, he said, were some of the foulest creatures in existence. Not very wise to mix with them.

"Professor, when the Dementor grabbed my head, there was a glow that surrounded both of us, and I felt a sharp pain."

The look on his face changed from curiosity to slight horror; a face I encounter quite a bit more than most others.

"Ginevra, you were in contact with the Dementor when I hit it with my patronus. Because of that connection, you damaged your head, as that was the place of contact, and you need to go up to the school immediately to see Madame Pomfrey. Thank goodness there's only ten minutes left to the trip, otherwise I would send you ahead."

From there, he started explaining the process in which I would remain stabilized, and removed from the train, out of the public eye of the school. He also instructed everyone to mention nothing, as it might bring unneeded attention to me. After a hastily made excuse, Professor Lupin rushed out into the hallway, and away from the room.

Everyone just looked at me in response to our new professor's directions. Surprisingly though, I received no pity, but loyalty. From their eyes, I could tell that I had no need for the golden trio if I ever got in a pickle; Luna, Susan, Ernie, and Terry would jump off bridges to save me.

And for the first time since May, I was happy.

-*-

It was decided that Luna would be in charge of bringing me to the hospital wing, because it was already established that we were friends, and therefore not unusual if we were making a 'side trip to the loo on the first floor'.

After an odd fifteen minutes of traveling, we reached our destination. Madame Pomfrey was warned of my injury, and immediately transferred me into a private ward. From there, I received numerous potions and charms that were intended to make the pain leave.

They didn't work.

After twenty minutes of useless healing, Madame Pomfrey flooed Healer Llewellyn (not 'Dangerous' Dai, but his reputable granddaughter, Lindy) to try to figure out my problem.

Another twenty minutes passed by before Healer Llewellyn figured out and healed the abnormality in my neck. Apparently, I had problems from my exuberant childhood that were only intensified by the scene in the compartment.

Just bloody great.

The verdict is that I am to stay in the Hospital Wing overnight, while the potions heal the upper vertebrae of my spine. After that, I have to come back every morning to take a recovery potion until the end of the year, when I am eligible for minor surgery.

Another year, another problem.

-*-

When they finally let Luna in to talk, I could see the emotional roller-coaster she had felt during my treatments. She put her arms around me gingerly, giving me about all the hug I could handle at the moment, and buried her face in my hair. She thought I wouldn't notice the tears, but I did. I rubbed her back, as she let out the anguish of the night on my shoulder.

"As they entered, I heard my mum telling me to leave her workroom. I was nine," Luna announced suddenly, into the quiet room.

I didn't have to ask to know she was referring to the memories the Dementors brought upon.

"Tom was back. He told me to follow his guide, he wouldn't lead me wrong. His lies just replayed again and again," I responded.

We sat on the uncomfortable bed for an hour, just holding onto the last shreds of our innocence, before the darkness overtook us.


End file.
